Insatiable
by IWillNotBeSilenced
Summary: ON HOLD DUE TO SCHOOL EXAMS. SORRY GUYS!Thomas had always been the master of the poker face, no matter what hell he was fighting. Hell. If this was his hell, then Jimmy was his devil; determined to make things difficult, yet any attempt to resist the temptation only resulted in Thomas getting burned.
1. A Damaged Heart

_I stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had, but I still mean every word I said to you. She will try to take away my pain and she just might make me smile but the whole time I'm wishing she was you instead._

_-Haunted, Taylor Swift_

The expectant faces of the servants peered up at an ecstatic Ivy who was bursting with her good news and clutching the arm of Thomas Barrow, who leant nonchalantly against the door frame. "Do you want to tell them or shall I?" Ivy asked breathlessly, gazing up at Thomas excitedly.

"I don't mind. I suppose you should tell them, technically." He told her. "Darling." He added after a moment's hesitation, an atypical smirk painting his handsome features.

Ivy nodded quickly and taking a deep breath, turned to address her expectant audience with wide eyes. "I'm pleased to announce to you all that Mr Barrow and I are to be married!"

There was a heartbeat of silence as the news sunk in before the kitchen staff erupted in elation.

Ivy's cheeks flushed pink as Daisy threw her arms around her friend and babbled excitedly about how beautiful the wedding would be. Daisy had always been the hopeless romantic of the downstairs staff. "Are you pleased?" Ivy asked, taking both of Daisy's hands.

"'Course I'm pleased! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I know you used to- You know- "

Daisy smacked Ivy's arm playfully. "Oh come on Ivy! You know I don't think of Mr Barrow like that anymore, silly!" Ivy sighed in relief and pulled the other maid into a tight embrace.

"She'll be good for you Mr Barrow." Alfred gave an awkward half smile. "As long as you remember she could've been my girl first!" Alfred patted Thomas' shoulder slightly more forcefully than he meant to, and pulled his hand away quickly when Thomas gave him a look.

"Now, now Alfred. Let's not get jealous shall we? Respect your superiors." Thomas raised his eyebrows at the younger footman, who shuffled off to escape the cool, withering stare of the under-butler. The whole event would be worth all the fuss just to get under Alfred's skin, Thomas thought. It seemed like sufficient payback for the way the footman had behaved towards him following that ruinous night. How did people so often forget that Thomas had feelings too? Feelings which, upon seeing Jimmy- James- Kent amidst the commotion, leaning, arms folded against the wall, all came rushing back at him like a tidal wave.

_No._ Thomas tried viciously to push his thoughts away. He'd made his bed where Jimmy Kent was concerned. He was marrying Ivy. _He was marrying Ivy._ Thomas mentally repeated the statement, trying to stop his mind- and heart- from rebelling wholeheartedly against the idea. Better to not feel anything than to accept and submit to his reality.

Still, it looked as if Jimmy couldn't care less- and Thomas had always the master of the poker face, no matter what hell he was fighting. Hell. He nearly laughed out loud at his mind's metaphor. If this was his hell, Jimmy was his devil; determined to make things difficult, yet Thomas' attempts to resist the temptation only resulted in him getting burned. Ivy might be a nice girl. She _was _a nice girl,and extremely pretty too. Not to mention that she was entirely devoted to Thomas. _But she isn't Jimmy._ A betraying voice in the back of Thomas' mind insisted.

Anna's voice cut through Thomas' thoughts, pulling him sharply back into focus. "We should have an engagement party!" She was saying, looking over at Thomas. He knew that Anna was just trying to be kind, but being forced to _celebrate_ what was happening would only cause more damage than good. "Oh that would be wonderful!" Daisy chimed in.

"Come on Mr Carson, it's not everyday people get engaged." Alfred added.

"It's an excuse to have a drink too." Jimmy piped up cockily from the back of the room. Thomas looked up in surprise at Jimmy's contribution.

"That's quite enough of that, thank you James." Carson gave him a disapproving look and raised a hand for silence. Thomas looked away again. "Need I remind you that _I _am the head butler here?_ I_ am in charge, and _I_ will make the decisions."

"But_ I_ am the housekeeper!" Mrs Hughes countered. "Now Mr Carson, I think we can let this one go. Don't be so uptight!" Carson tried to find a suitable argument but, on failing, sighed in defeat. "Friday." He agreed reluctantly. "Can you arrange a sufficient amount of food in two days Mrs Patmore? Daisy?"

"Oh, I think we'll manage." Mrs Patmore grinned, looking over at Daisy, who nodded. Then, brandishing a spatula at Ivy, "You can take this one off!" She told the kitchen maid, who beamed and latched onto Thomas' arm once again.

"Now get to bed the lot of you!" Mrs Hughes shooed the maids out of the door after seeing the time depicted on the large clock mounted on the wall.

"Goodnight everyone!" Anna, the head housemaid, called. And congratulations to Thomas and Ivy."

There was a momentary bustle as everyone followed Anna's lead and bid each other goodnight, before the kitchen fell quiet once again.

Mrs Hughes was the last to leave, but as she reached for the light switch, she noticed Thomas still standing in the doorway, concealed in shadow.

Thomas, remembering the way that Jimmy had waltzed past him without a glance, saw Mrs Hughes approaching him. "Aren't you going to congratulate me then Mrs Hughes?" Thomas drawled, looking up.

"You should get to bed Thomas. These next few days will be busy." Mrs Hughes offered in answer.

"I think I'll survive. I might go for an evening smoke."

"Thomas…" Mrs Hughes met the under-butler's eyes for a moment, searching for her next words and how to place them.

"Mrs Hughes?"

The housekeeper sighed. "Congratulations." She placed a hand on his arm, hoping to convey somewhere in her worried expression that Thomas could trust her with whatever was on his mind. Thomas nodded briefly to her. "Goodnight Mrs Hughes." He spoke quietly, before he turned and strode through the door behind him.

**A/N I'd first like to say a huge thank you to everyone who clicked on this story and took the time to read it. So thank you! Secondly, please please please review, I'd love to hear what you all thought! I know it's short but the following chapters will be longer, provided you all enjoyed it! -Abbie xxx**


	2. Hope Is A Fragile Thing

_There's a war between the vanities but all I see is you and me and the fight for you is all I've ever known._

_-Come Home, OneRepublic_

"It's six o'clock Alfred. You'll be wanted in the dining room in an hour." Thomas slipped his black under-butler's suit jacket onto his shoulders.

"Hmm?" Alfred mumbled groggily, rolling over in bed.

"A footman is never late. Surely you should know that by now." Thomas began to work on his tie. "Mr Carson won't be pleased."

"Oh, five more minutes." Alfred said grouchily, covering his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You've finally accepted that James beat you out for first footman, even though you've been here longer then? I didn't take you as a defeatist Alfred." Thomas challenged, raising his eyebrows.

Alfred sat up sharply, ginger hair tousled. "What's it to you?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Thomas' heart missed a beat. Alfred had been the one to wake up and discover Thomas kissing Jimmy while he slept. Jimmy had since moved to a room down the corridor, in place of Thomas, but Alfred still looked for any opportunity to trip Thomas up about the matter.

"Don't get excited Alfred; Just checking that you're still working to the best of your ability." The under-butler turned away. Still, within minutes, Alfred was dressed in his footman's livery and headed out of the door.

Alone, Thomas gave himself a once-over in the mirror. He didn't need to check, his uniform was always in pristine condition, but it had become a habit. He sighed deeply.

He knew that the vast majority of today would be spent preparing for the party. He also knew that the sole reason he was marrying Ivy was an irrational, last-ditch attempt to remove Jimmy from his aching heart once and for all. Finally, he knew that no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't going to work.

Thomas sat back heavily on the edge of his unmade bed and placed his head in his hands. He was so far buried in his despairing thoughts that he didn't hear the swift, elegant footsteps coming down the corridor.

"Mr Carson asked me to bring you this. Is everything alright Mr Barrow?" At the sound of Jimmy's voice, another crack formed on Thomas' already shattered heart. He forced himself to look up. Seeing Jimmy standing there, so close, looking unbelievably awkward yet still painfully attractive , and holding out Thomas' leather glove to him, only made Thomas long for him even more. Thomas gave a laboured smile and tried not to choke on his words.

"Fine thank you James. Just tired- that's all." He tried to smile naturally, but thinking better of it, set his usual cold, emotionless expression in place instead. It didn't take any effort- unless he was talking to Jimmy.

"Right you are then." Jimmy held out the glove again, prompting Thomas to take it. As he stood up and reached for it, his fingers lightly brushed Jimmy's. The spark of connection was immediate and fleeting, but Thomas hadn't missed it. As he glanced up to smile a sincere 'thank you' to Jimmy for bringing him his glove, the expression on Jimmy's face told Thomas that he hadn't missed it either.

Unlike Thomas, Jimmy's emotions could easily be detected from his face. Thomas held the footman's flustered gaze for a moment, hoping, praying that Jimmy would say something, anything, to confirm that he too had felt the connection between them. But Jimmy pulled his hand away abruptly. He cleared his throat. "Right then. I'll- I'll just be going. Have a nice day Mr Barrow."

Thomas watched Jimmy leave his room, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, and collapsed back onto the bed, feeling any seed of hope he may have stupidly entertained about Jimmy, crumble away into oblivion.

The problem was that he hadn't lied to Jimmy. He _was_ tired: Tired of the plans and the excitement of the other staff, tired of the never-ending, sleepless nights, tired of the awkward glances. But most of all, he was tired of pretending that he wasn't completely, unrealistically in love with Jimmy Kent.

…

"Strawberry or chocolate cake?"

Thomas felt Ivy shaking his arm. "Hmm? What's that?"

"I said, do you think we should have strawberry or chocolate cake? Gosh, you're away with the fairies today!" Ivy grinned up at him.

Thomas smiled- or smirked, rather- distractedly in return, but his eyes continually flickered across the servant's hall to where Jimmy was stealing some crackers from one of the plates that had been set out for breakfast.

"Thomas? Ivy asked if there was anything on your mind." Anna told him with a concerned look on her kind face.

"No, no. Just didn't sleep very well last night." Thomas smiled in what he hoped was an assured manner, but it felt more like a grimace.

"Are you feeling ill? I can get Mrs Hughes, or Carson." Anna went on.

"Thank you for your concern Anna, but I'm sure you have more important things to be getting on with. Now let's sit down, I'm starving." Thomas gestured to the table which was set with breakfast, even though he wasn't remotely hungry after this morning, and sat down; Right opposite Jimmy. Thomas kicked himself mentally; he knew that Anna, or even Mrs Hughes would notice. And he was sure O'Brien would have a field day. It was too late to change seats now though- that would be even more suspicious.

Thomas kept his head down while he ate and tried to engage in the idle chatter, so as not to draw attention- or suspicion- to himself.

Halfway through a piece of toast, and the article on the inside page of the morning paper, Thomas felt something brush his knee. It was a light touch, but it made Thomas raise his head. He looked across the table at Jimmy, but the other man was deep in conversation with Carson about the new set of silverware his Lordship had obtained upstairs- as if he was interested. Again, Thomas kicked himself. Jimmy had probably dropped his napkin and had bent to pick it up, brushing Thomas' leg as he did so. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he hadn't seen Jimmy move to retrieve anything at all.

When Daisy came into the servant's hall and began to clear things away, a signal to the staff that it was time to start the day's work, Jimmy moved past Thomas without a word. Mrs Hughes, however, didn't. "Thomas? Would you come into my sitting room a moment?"

**A/N Thank you all so, so, so much for your kind, encouraging reviews on the last chapter. Entirely unexpected, but much appreciated. Please, review this chapter and tell me what you think! It gives me the motivation to continue writing. Thank you all! –Abbie xxx**


	3. Acceptance and Denial

_You don't get burned 'cause nothing gets through, it makes it easier on you, that much more difficult for me to make you see. Your hearts a mess, you won't admit to it. It makes no sense but I'm desperate to connect, and you can't live like this._

_-Heart's A Mess, Gotye_

Thomas stood just inside Mrs Hughes' sitting room with his back against the door, observing the housekeeper with a guarded expression. Mrs Hughes sat straight in her chair, looking at Thomas with a kind smile, but the staff at Downton had learned not to be deceived, they knew that she still meant business.

"Would you like some tea?" Mrs Hughes lifted her china teapot and filled the matching teacup with the steaming liquid for herself.

"Oh I don't think I'll be staying that long Mrs Hughes." Thomas' face was entirely devoid of any expression.

"Will you at least sit down?" Mrs Hughes' voice lacked the tentativeness that others had when addressing Thomas, as if they didn't know what he would do if they said the wrong thing.

Thomas hooked his ankle around the chair leg and slid into the wooden chair opposite Mrs Hughes with a barely audible sigh.

"Now, how about you and I have a little chat?" Mrs Hughes raised her eyebrows, as if waiting for Thomas to deny her request. When he failed to reply, she tried once more.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about regarding your engagement to Ivy?"

"I don't believe there is anything to discuss Mrs Hughes, though thank you for your concern.

"Perhaps then it is your feelings for Mr Kent that need to be addressed?" Mrs Hughes kept her gaze trained on Thomas, unfazed by her own directness.

Thomas started and his eyes widened as he spluttered incoherently, desperately searching for a reply. His cold, collected façade had just been blown wide open and Mrs Hughes knew it.

"Ah. I thought that might get a reaction." Mrs Hughes sipped her tea and chuckled, though Thomas could find no humour in the situation.

"I am engaged, Mrs Hughes, to a lovely girl who I'm sure will make me very happy one day. You of all people should understand the importance of keeping your word." Thomas answered, flustered.

Mrs Hughes smile sympathetically. "I do. But matters of the heart are never that simple. You of all people should understand that. Besides, you and I both know that you are not that way inclined. I saw you watching James at breakfast earlier. Now, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I know well enough when someone is in love and I do believe that you, whether or not I approve, and I am certainly not encouraging it in the workplace, are in love with James."

Thomas stared at the floor for a moment in shock, attempting to gather his thoughts. He didn't think he was so easy to read. He'd never been an open book- that he'd made sure of. Certainly no one else thought so. But Mrs Hughes did, and she was right.

Tears sprang to Thomas' eyes as he looked up. "And what do you propose I do about it?" He tried, and failed miserably, to keep his voice steady.

"So you don't deny it?" Mrs Hughes hadn't expected him to freely give himself up over the matter, but Thomas was tired of pretending.

"No I don't bloody deny it." Thomas hissed. "But it's too late Mrs Hughes. It's just too late."

Mrs Hughes held out her arms to Thomas and, against his better judgement, he fell into them and sobbed wretchedly.

…

Jimmy felt the splintering of wood beneath his fist as it came into contact with the set of drawers. He pulled his hand back and growled curses under his breath as pain shot through his knuckles like shards of glass.

He forced himself to refrain from pounding it again, for fear of Carson coming to see where the noise was coming from. Jimmy leant against the wall and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to dam the rush of emotion that threatened to engulf him.

Jimmy wasn't like _him._ He wasn't bruised, or broken. Not on the inside. Jimmy would _never _be like him.

But at breakfast, he had felt an overwhelming pull that had become all too familiar when Thomas was around. Jimmy couldn't explain it; he'd never experienced anything like it before. But Jimmy had suddenly found himself with his hand on Thomas' leg. What on earth had that been about?

Jimmy thought, no, he knew, that he was nothing- _nothing_- like Thomas Barrow.

But there was no denying that for the first time in his life, Jimmy felt completely and utterly lost.

**Sorry it's a bit of a short one and I took a while to post, I've been in three shows these last three weeks so I haven't had much free time on my hands. All the same, I hope you enjoyed it, please keep your kind reviews coming; my writing is only as good as your feedback. Thank you all for favouriting, following and reviewing my story, you're all amazing. –Abbie xxx**


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